


Athens

by salvabon



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Canon Autistic Character, Caring Douglas, Douglas POV, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Martin Crieff Whump, Meltdown, Non-Verbal, autistic!martin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 04:12:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18066356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salvabon/pseuds/salvabon
Summary: Douglas didn't want to admit it but he felt embarrassed he hadn't noticed sooner that something was up with Martin.





	Athens

**Author's Note:**

> Being autistic myself, Autistic!Martin is very dear to my heart (especially as it is word-of-god canon).   
> I am more of a shut-down person myself so I hope my portrayal of a meltdown is okay (if you're a meltdown kind of autistic and have any comments/corrections/tips please do share)   
> My kink is characters realising they have been ableist or just generally mean and then changing their behaviour

Douglas didn't want to admit it but he felt embarrassed he hadn't noticed sooner that something was up with Martin. He knew it had been an exhausting week for them, they flew one job after the other (with Carolyn just barely leaving the legal minimum of rest in between) and afterwards Martin went home just to be a 'man with a van' to secure some financial stability. Sometimes Douglas forgot about this fact, that his Captain was living from day to day and from job to job.   
Additionally, everything that could go wrong did go wrong for Martin, even more than usual. They mostly transported passengers these weeks, which meant an excessive amount of people confusing him for First-Officer (and sometimes even for a steward), which always riled him up.   
There had been incredibly bad weather, an emergency diversion for a dangerous malfunction that turned out to just be GERTI crying wolf again, and of course, angry passengers upon finding out the two-hour emergency stop-over had not been necessary after all. Carolyn had reminded the poor Martin extensively how much he had cost her (although Douglas did try to convince her that he would have made the same decision).   
Alone this morning Martin was pickpocketed on the way to the airport in Fez and randomly selected at the security checks.   
In retrospect, Douglas noted how different Martin had been today. He had been more fidgety, rubbing his hands together and bouncing his leg. He kept repeating himself, for which he had teased him ("Martin, is your record scratched") and especially after the problem at the TSA Martin grew quieter and just walked around robotically, doing his tasks and talking mainly when spoken to. Douglas had assumed he was just angry or exhausted, but now it made more sense.  
Douglas liked Martin, in the weird sense someone would secretly like their annoying little brother, but Douglas thought the only way to deal with an annoying little brother was to engage in some banter.   
As soon as they were airborne Douglas grinned: "What is the matter, Martin, did the TSA confiscate your tongue?"   
Martin shot him some daggers.   
"No."  
That was the only answer he got.   
"What about another round of 'books that sound more interesting with the last letter taken off'?'   
The answer came back through gritted teeth: "No, Douglas, I don't want to play any stupid games, I just want to have my peace and fly GERTI safely to Athens."   
Douglas had been a little taken aback by this and scoffed a confused "okay" which Martin echoed mockingly, or not so mockingly Douglas now realised, simply echoingly.   
Douglas tried it one or two more times but he saw Martin tensing up with every word he said, with every complaining beep of Gerti or message from the rest of the crew. The flight was long and boring this way, but he really wanted to not get into a fist fight with his Captain while flying over the Mediterranean (mostly because he would knock the scrawny boy right out and then he'd have to do all the work by himself.)  
Eventually, they landed (Martin had done smoother landings) and both pilots were glad to be able to leave almost directly after landing, as there was not much to be done this time. There were no passengers to get rid of and Carolyn didn't trust etíther of them with the apparently priceless cargo. They would stay in a hotel for one night and tomorrow afternoon fly back to Fitton.   
Douglas noticed that Martin looked even smaller than usual in the taxi seat, but he didn't make much of it. Martin was simply exhausted and a little irritated, he told himself. He'll be back to normal tomorrow. He couldn't wait to get to his room and leave all of this behind.   
To both of their surprise, Carolyn had assigned them a double room again (it's not like she didn't usually do this to save money but this time Douglas had been pretty sure they had been _promised_ separate rooms). He had been too angry at Carolyn to properly register Martin's face and the way he had been drawn to finally getting to a room of his own (ie far away from him).   
Upstairs they found a decent room, nevermind the flickering lightbulb and window facing the busy street.   
Martin paced up and down a few times, blinking profusely, holding his hands close to his body tensely, before closing the window and blinds, turning off the light and falling onto his bed.   
"Martin I know you are tired but you do realise it is only 4pm and not the best time to sleep? And not very polite to darken the room you are sharing with your colleague that might have wanted to, I don't know, see things?"   
Martin didn't answer.   
In the half-dark room, he could see him turn around into a fetal position. His face looked like he was in pain. Douglas felt panic rising in him but his brain overrode the impulse and stayed calm.   
"Martin, are you... okay?"   
No answer. It wasn't light enough to see his facial expression properly or to see if he was breathing, which is why he decided to turn on the lights. Douglas understood now that this hadn't been a good idea, but back then this had seemed like the only way to make sure Martin was okay. He didn't know back then that the flickering light was one of the many triggers that had caused Martin to react like this in the first place at all.   
Martin winced in pain as the light turned on. He was shaking lightly and he looked cramped and slightly hyperventilating and Douglas was not the very least relieved at this discovery.   
"Martin, are you in any pain?" No answer again. "Martin, can you hear me?" A faint nod. Were these tears on his cheeks?  
Just at the right time: several cars with sirens went by their hotel and that's when bad went to worse.   
Martin cramped even tighter, starting to wail. He started to hit his clenched hand on the bed.   
Douglas rushed to the bed, trying to keep a clean head (why was it so much easier to keep calm when it was about GERTI or a scheme? Why did he feel like losing control for the first time in a while?). Douglas tried to hold down his colleague's arm to stop him from clawing into his head and hitting himself, but this only made him cry stronger. Think, Douglas, was this an epileptic seizure? No, he thought, Martin wouldn't be epileptic. A heart attack or stroke? Not the right symptoms.   
"Martin!" He shouted. "Can you hear me? Can you tell me what's wrong? Or are you simply throwing a temper tantrum?"   
He wasn't even sure if Martin was aware of any of this happening but then came the answer, between the sobs he heard "wrong" "what's wrong" and "lights". Douglas turned them off again immediately, realising now that the flickering must be hurting him.   
Martin relaxed a little bit now, but he was still shaking and Douglas worriedly noticed his nervous hand movements, rubbing and clawing through his hair, covering his ears. But he wasn't hitting himself anymore, which was a definite plus.   
Out of reflex, Douglas put a hand on his shoulder, but this only made Martin tense up again.   
"Duly noted, no touching. Martin, can you tell me if there is anything I can do for you?"   
"No touching" came the answer. Douglas was confused: "Well I already said that-" and then the penny dropped. Martin seemed to just be able to answer in the form of repeating things as he had done with the lights. The memory of Martin repeating his words earlier during the day came to his mind.   
"Okay, Martin. You repeat the right answer, yes or no." "Yes."   
"Do you need an ambulance called, yes or no." "No." Oh, thank god it was working.   
"Okay, Martin, here's a selection of things you might need: Do you need water, medicine, something from your bag?" No answer.  
"Do you need me to keep talking? Shut up but stay? Shut up but leave? Call Carolyn or Arthur?" This was turning into a game both were winning and Douglas felt a weight falling from his mind. He hoped that these longer answers still worked for Martin.   
"Shut up but stay?" came the question and Douglas nodded.   
"Very well Martin, I will just quickly step into the hallway to make sure no one disturbs us and then I will come back." Douglas didn't expect an answer but he heard a faint "very well, come back," from Martin.   
Douglas changed the sign to 'do not disturb' and called Carolyn.   
"What's wrong now, Douglas? Angry again that I booked you a double room because nothing you can do Mister-" "It's not that, Carolyn. I wanted to inform you our dear pilot had some kind of.." suddenly his brain supplied the term: "meltdown. Fortunately, he did not need medical attention but he is resting right now. I am sure he would appreciate it if you could make sure that no one is bothering us for the rest of the day, including you and Arthur." "Of Course, consider it done."   
When Douglas stepped back in, Martin looked more relaxed. he was still in a fetal position but breathing deeply and regularly. He kept his hands close to his body and touched each finger to the thumb. Douglas looked at him for a while to make sure he remained okay, and the finger movement was rather hypnotic.   
Douglas made sure to move quietly, he was sure Martin was aware of his presence anyways, and sit down on his bed. He grabbed his phone back from his pocket, turned it on silent and googled 'meltdown'.  
The symptoms fit and Douglas started feeling that guilt. He should have known earlier. He had seen all those signs and he had been unable to do something and he had, in fact, helped trigger it. And then one google search led to another when the cause of meltdowns had always been linked to autism.   
For the third-or-so time this day a penny dropped. As he read through the signs of autism in adults he ticked off one box after the other when thinking about Martin. He was certainly socially awkward and was so obsessed he could barely talk about anything other than aviation. He had always noted that Martin tended to be a little too literal and way too bad at word games. He fidgeted when nervous, he had gone nonverbal today and started echoing (echolalia, Douglas made sure to remember that word). Martin had been highly sensitive to the lights and sounds today (and that wasn't the first time Douglas had noted or made fun of Martins sensitivity to sensory input). So many things made sense now and Douglas wasn't sure if he felt worse about not knowing it before or how much he teased Martin about it. Douglas was usually the perceptive of the four, the smart one. The one who should have noticed he was flying with a pilot with autism. And while he knew that he could not stop teasing him as much as he could not stop teasing anyone, he did feel a little bad about it suddenly. Martin was a rule-abiding, annoyingly overcompensating Captain, but at least now he knew where at least half of his peculiarities came from and that this was something in his brain.   
After an hour or so of googling through explanations and resources, in which Douglas had kept an eye on the resting Martin, he checked on him again:  
"Hey Martin, It is 5:17pm now," he started in the softest voice he could manage. "Are you feeling better, yes or no?" Martin needed a few seconds longer to answer, but echoed the affirmative.   
"Do you want me to stay and shut up, stay and talk, or leave?" "Stay and talk."   
"Very well, Martin. let's go through the list again, shall we?" Douglas left a little pause but didn't expect Martin to answer. "Yes," he said.   
Douglas saw Martin stirring a little, slowly blinking a little.   
"Do you need: Water? Medicine? Something from your bag? Something else?" Again, Martin seemed to ponder over the options.   
"Water. medicine. Something from bag." Douglas nodded.   
First, he got a glass from the bar and filled it with tap water. "can you drink alone or do you need help," he asked when he sat down on the opposite of Martin, looking more and more conscious.   
Martin got into a slightly more upright position, grabbed the glass with a hand still shaking and drank in careful sips. He placed it on the table next to him. He leaned against the pillow and smiled weakly, looking a little besides Douglas's head.   
"For the medicine, I will need a little bit of your help. Because I don't know what kind you need. I can look through your bag and list-" "Aspirin," Maritn brought forth.   
"Look who's talking," Douglas said grinning as he handed him an Aspirin. "Now there was something else you wanted, can you tell me what it is?"   
Martin swallowed the pill. He was silent for a few more seconds and Douglas got worried that he was tired out again (and that he had to go through everything from Martin's bag).   
"Blanket. And Headphones," Martin said.   
Douglas opened the captain's flight bag carefully and found a thin and soft blanket and a pair of headphones. He threw the blanket over his recovering colleague and handed him the headphones.   
"I can hear you just fine," he said with a weak smile. "But it is...easier."   
"Getting better quickly, I see. When you're hungry I can ring up room service. I figured taking you to a loud restaurant might be a bad idea, considering your circumstances. I also informed Carolyn that you are feeling unwell and shan't be disturbed. Furthermore, I will keep this as a secret as long as you do not talk to you-know-who about you-know-what. Okay or not okay?"   
"Thank you," Came the answer. "For everything."   
Douglas went out to pat his friend on the shoulder but stopped in mid-air. "You're welcome, Martin."   
Martin spent another half an hour or so under the blanket, semi-verbal and simply listening to Douglas talking about this or that. Douglas, now getting more and more aware of Martin's body language, saw the shift in Martin's posture and facial expression as life slowly returned to him.   
In a small monologue pause, Martin used the chance to speak up again, albeit a little slow still, he was sounding much more like the Martin that Douglas knew:   
"I guess I owe you an explanation." Douglas waved it away, getting up to get a bottle of orange juice from the mini bar. "No need for that. A soon as I realised you were having a meltdown it all kind of fell into place."   
Martin made an attempt to raise an eyebrow: "So you know I-" "know you have autism? Of course."   
Douglas didn't want to admit he had found out through google and sheer luck.   
"Autistic," Martin mumbled. "I'm autistic."   
Douglas scoffed: "And where's the difference in that Captain taciturn?"   
"You wouldn't call yourself a person with piloting license would you?" "No I indeed call myself a pilot, Martin." "Exactly. it's part of your person. Not separate. Autism is like that, I can't remove it from being a person." Douglas nodded. he wasn't sure if he completely understood, but this clearly was important to Martin.  
"Is there anything I can help you with now? Or anything I need to keep in mind should this happen again?"   
Martin sat up even more.   
"You were quite intuitive already. Minimal sensory input, asking easy questions I could echo, not teasing me and listening to me." "Well eventually someone has to listen to you, Martin."   
Martin scoffed and then went silent for a minute. "Do you think they have baked potatoes here?"   
Douglas grabbed the menu: "I think so, why?" "Can you..order one for me? With nothing but sour cream and some ketchup on the side?" Douglas raised an eyebrow but didn't question it. Everyone had different comfort foods.   
After making the order, plus a gyros plate for him, Martin supplied the answer all by himself:  
"This is what my mother would always make when I felt bad."   
The food arrived quickly and was quite passable.   
They both went to bed early that day and slept a little longer they would usually do.   
Martin was still not back to completely normal, he was a little more sensitive, but Douglas was sure he was fine.   
Carolyn, who confessed to Douglas later that she too had googled meltdown and hadn't completely checked Martin's medical records before his interview, was most gentle with Martin that day and let Douglas do all the work. Arthur was cheerful as normal but had been told to not bother Skip too much.   
Douglas kept his snark to a minimum and didn't engage in any 'stupid games' with Martin until he asked if they could play 'beat the manual'.   
He refused several times until eventually giving up to play one round with Martin. Of course, Martin won that one and bragged about it too, but Douglas let him have that one. Next flight would be all like normal again, but today the kid needed a rest.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!   
> A kudo or comment would make my day if you did!


End file.
